


Data Collection

by kind-of-always-late (intransient_adventure)



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intransient_adventure/pseuds/kind-of-always-late
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a (not so) little expansion on everyone's favorite Cophine scene in 1x08.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

 

* * *

 

A few twigs. The butt of a cigarette. A soggy handbill.

Delphine stood tall, shoulders tense, fingers wrapped tightly around the straps of her purse. She was momentarily grateful for the gloves she wore, for had her hands been bare her nails would already have broken the skin of her palms.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Her heart beat erratically, abnormally. She could feel it in her ears.

 _Focus_ , she told herself.

The longer she stared, the more details she accumulated. She strained to fill her mind with the nuances of the building’s doorstep, striving to push all other thoughts from her mind.

Scattered twigs. The butt of a cigarette crushed against the pavement. The crumpled handbill plastered to the moist concrete.

_Dig deeper, faster. Cosima’s safety is at stake._

Her posture stiffened, her grip tensed. She stared more intently.

Focus.

The scattered twigs. The crushed cigarette. The crumpled handbill.

The handbill.

_Focus._

“Join the Literature Club for a Reading of George’s Orwell’s _1984_!  
Tuesday, December 14th, Room –”

Delphine’s eyes pressed shut.

_Merde._

She redirected her gaze to the doorway before her. She had been here before, but it had never seemed so _tall_. She stretched her spine, visualizing her vertebrae stacking neatly atop one another, trying to grow herself as tall as that doorway. It didn’t help. She dropped her gaze to the ground again.

The twigs, the cigarette, the han—

She snapped her head up in frustration. She stared determinedly at the doorway. There was no use delaying any longer; the chill in the air was beginning to get to her, and her thoughts were not getting any quieter.

She stepped gingerly to the threshold, pulled the massive door open and stepped inside.  
She shifted her purse to hang from her elbow, absently removed her gloves, and stuffed them into her left jacket pocket as she made her way down the corridor.

_I need to know which ones she's in contact with._

Would Cosima tell her, if she asked her outright? It was a ridiculous thought, but she couldn’t help but wonder. While Delphine did not know for certain, she had a feeling… she was sure Cosima knew far more than she let on. She could feel it when those brightly curious eyes regarded her with such intensity, could see it in the way she had stared so coldly at Leekie.

Cosima knew about the clones. She had to.

But did she know about Delphine? About Leekie? She behaved as though she was buying the act, and yet… something seemed off. Delphine could not shake the feeling that Cosima was playing her, as well.

And the kiss? How did that fit in?

 _Focus_ , she told herself again. _Remain impartial._

She turned up the stairwell and ascended slowly, gripping the handrail in a half-hearted attempt to steady herself.

This was simple. She could do this. She only needed to find a way to obtain access to Cosima’s apartment, to search it when she was away. If Cosima knew anything, there must be some clue in her apartment. She only needed a chance to find it.

_Where are you with Cosima?_

She remembered Cosima’s lips on hers and felt suddenly warm and awkward and guilty. She tasted wine.

_Closer._

Cosima hadn’t called. Since that night, she hadn’t called. Delphine knew that she should not be surprised. She was the one who needed to reach out; she was the one who had left without any explanation. A few times she’d attempted to draft a text, but nothing seemed appropriate.

Nothing seemed honest.

Why should she care if anything seemed honest? Her task was simple. Just data collection, really. It was simple.

_Remain impartial._

She reached the top of the stairwell. She felt the blood flooding through her veins at an alarming rate, and while she understood the various biological processes that were causing this marked increase in speed, she could do nothing to slow it. She stopped herself a few feet from Cosima’s door, making one last attempt to quiet her mind and slow her heart. This time, she gave up quickly. It would only get worse.

 _It’s just data collection,_ she reminded herself. _Simple._

She took a shallow inhale because it was all her body would allow her.

She knocked.

It took a moment, but Delphine soon heard the lock unlatch. She heard the door open, but found that she could not lift her eyes from the ground. She could feel Cosima’s gaze on her, but still she did not look up. She stared instead at Cosima’s bare feet, memorizing their detail.

“Hey… Delphine.” She said, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Delphine could feel Cosima smiling – could hear it in her voice – and finally she looked up to meet her gaze.

“I… I hope I am not disturbing you,” she managed awkwardly. She felt warm again.

_Remain impartial._

“Oh, no! No, no, no. Impossible,” Cosima assured her, turning and walking past her desk. Delphine scarcely had time to take a breath before she continued:

“So, apparently I’ve got this thing for like, um, jumping to conclusions.”

Delphine was caught off guard. She hadn’t been quite sure how to breach the subject of their last encounter or how to explain her abrupt and graceless exit, but here Cosima was wanting to discuss it straightaway. Suddenly all of the explanations Delphine had rehearsed in the last twenty-four hours were inaccessible to her.

“You know, it’s just that I’ve… never…” she stumbled.

“I know, I know, I know,” Cosima cut in, saving her from her struggle, “You’re not… you’re not gay. And I’m a total idiot. So sorry.”

“Hm,” Delphine agreed, nodding a bit too forcefully. She knew she should say something, but instead she began to remove her coat.

“Oh, let me,” Cosima said, reaching out to her.

“Oh, yes,” Delphine responded, shrugging her coat off awkwardly. She felt warm and uncomfortable again, and suddenly she was all too aware of her arms and hands. She settled them inelegantly on her hips.

“Do you, uh,” Cosima began, taking her coat, “ I just want to make, like, uh, crazy science with you.”

Delphine laughed a bit too eagerly.

Cosima smiled widely, glad to have broken the tension a bit.

“Totally crazy science,” she assured her, taking the coat and draping it over a chair.

“I am so glad to hear that,” Delphine began hurriedly, moving to her purse. This encounter was going far more smoothly than she’d expected. They’d put the kiss behind them, and now she could go right back to plugging Leekie and DYAD.

_It was simple._

“Because, you know what, I was, I was reading up on, on the DYAD institute,” she continued, fishing a pamphlet out of her purse and opening it shakily.

_Simple. This is simple. Focus._

Then why was she stuttering?

“And, did you know that Dr. Leekie,” she continued, “he has built a dedicated department for transgenic organ transplants, and—”

“Sorry,” Cosima, said, cutting her off, “I was just dorking out so hard to their, um, extrapolation of murine models.”

“What?” Delphine exclaimed, genuinely surprised that Cosima had given the DYAD materials a chance at all, let alone… what had she said? “Dorked out” over them?

Cosima pulled an identical pamphlet from a stack of papers, bringing it around to the desk and laying it out next to Delphine’s.

“Yeah, look,” she smiled, gesturing.

“Oh, wow,” Delphine breathed. For a moment she forgot herself.

“You know, it’s really, really good to finally meet someone who gets it.”

“Mmm,” Cosima nodded, continuing to stare down at the desk.

“Who gets… who gets me,” Delphine confessed, staring straight ahead. She was surprised by her own sincerity. What was she doing?

_Focus. DYAD. The clones. Focus._

Now Cosima turned to look at Delphine, giving her a small smile. Delphine returned it, awkwardly.

“Yeah, ditto. Obvs.”

Delphine felt her teeth pressing into her lower lip. _Talk about DYAD,_ she told herself. _Tell her about the progress we’ve—ah, they’ve made with stem cells. The murine models, talk about the muri—_

“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss,” she heard herself say instead.

“Uh, like in a… not bad way?” Cosima stammered.

“Oh like, I have never thought about bisexuality. I mean, for myself, you know? But, as a scientist I know that sexuality is a, is a, is a spectrum,” she stumbled, finally landing on the right word. She felt warm and anxious. “But, you know, social biases, they, they codify attraction, contrary to the biological facts. You know,” she tacked on lamely, smiling uneasily. She dropped her gaze to the floor, uncomfortable.

“That’s… oddly romantic,” Cosima smiled.

Delphine laughed: short and nervous. Now she held Cosima’s gaze, and Cosima’s face went from smiling to strangely serious. She watched her swallow. She watched her part her lips. She was acutely aware of Cosima’s lips. Cosima stared openly into her eyes.

“And totally encouraging.”

Delphine hesitated. She reached her hand out and stroked Cosima’s cheek. It didn’t feel wrong. She cupped her face, brushed her fingers over her lips. Cosima’s eyes fluttered, but did not close. They stared right back at Delphine’s, dark and wanting.

It was all she needed.

Delphine pulled Cosima into her, pressing their lips together.

_Merde._

Okay, it was not too late. She could still rein herself in. Aldous had instructed her to gain Cosima’s trust, after all. Sure, this wasn’t the avenue she’d planned to take, but perhaps… perhaps she could make it work. Perhaps she could give in to this strange thing she was feeling. After all, the only rule was to get the information; Aldous had said nothing about method.

She felt Cosima’s breath hitch against her lips and felt that warmth turn into a fire.

It was okay. She could do this. This was just curiosity; scientific curiosity, and a means to an end.

_Remain objective._

Delphine did her best to remain objective as she let her hands wander from the back of Cosima’s neck down to her collarbone and around to her lower back. She did her best to remain objective as she awkwardly pulled Cosima’s cardigan off of her shoulders and let her hands slide down to her ass. She continued her effort to maintain objectivity as she pushed Cosima into the desk behind them, as Cosima’s hips arched up into hers, as Cosima’s tongue pushed into her mouth, as Cosima’s hand grazed her breast.

Her knees trembled. She steadied herself against the desk.

_Merde._

This had to be a thousand kinds of unethical. Sleeping with her boss was one thing, but at least Aldous was just a scientist. Cosima was the science. She was the experiment they had created, and here she was kissing the experiment, stroking the experiment, moaning into the experiment. And the experiment was doing all of these things right back to her. Her head was spinning.

_Focus._

It was becoming more and more of a struggle to remember anything that wasn’t Cosima’s hands ghosting down her back, Cosima’s lips hot on her neck, Cosima’s breasts pressing up against her own.

_Dig deeper, faster. Cosima’s safety is at stake. I need to know which ones she in contact with._

Delphine hardly understood how or when it had happened, but somehow her sweater was now crumpled on the floor and Cosima’s fingers were roaming the bare flesh of her back and abdomen. She struggled to rein her thoughts in.

_I need to know –_

Cosima’s thigh pressed up between Delphine’s legs.

_Merde._

She hadn’t anticipated it being this difficult to remain in control, and she _had_ to remain in control. She was here for a reason, and this – whatever was happening now – this was not it.

_It was simple._

Cosima’s hand traveled down Delphine’s abdomen, hesitating at the hem of her skirt. She broke the kiss and looked up at Delphine, searching for some sort of confirmation or permission. But Delphine only buried her head into Cosima’s neck, kissing down her collarbone and arching her hips up into Cosima’s.

_It was supposed to be simple._

Cosima moved her hips back a bit to create space, guiding Delphine’s lips back to her own and kissing her deeply. Tentatively she undid Delphine’s belt, unzipping her skirt and pushing it a bit down her thighs, just enough to expose the top of her underwear. She slipped her hand beneath the skirt and between Delphine’s legs. She heard Delphine’s sudden, sharp intake of breath; she felt her grip tense and her body stiffen. She stroked her softly through the fabric of her underwear for a moment before sliding her hand back up.

Delphine’s body relaxed. Her breath was still uneven.

Slowly, Cosima drifted her hand back to Delphine’s lower abdomen, and this time she didn’t falter. She lingered for only a moment before dipping her fingers beneath the fabric of Delphine’s underwear. Delphine gasped. Cosima gasped. Delphine’s hips arched.

“Oh my god,” Cosima breathed, “You’re so wet.”

Cosima hadn’t been expecting it. Hell, Delphine hadn’t been expecting it.

_It was supposed to be simple._

Delphine felt frozen and on fire all at once. Until now she’d been able to fool herself into thinking she was still in control of this game. She’d ignored the shivers, ignored the warmth, ignored how easily Cosima could make her smile. It was just scientific curiosity. The science made her giddy. The science made her hot.

But Cosima was the science.

And Delphine was curious.

 _Focus,_ she told herself yet again, but by now it had become an empty mantra.

She felt Cosima’s fingers moving against her, and suddenly all thoughts of science and cloning and consequences were gone.

Fuck it.

She didn’t want to think anymore. She didn’t care that Cosima was a clone, or that she was a woman, or that she was meant to be spying on her, or that this was probably one of the dumbest things she could be doing right now.

She only wanted Cosima.


	2. Two

_Giddy_.

When she’d first observed Cosima interacting with that gangly boy in the lab, she had felt giddy. _They were real_ , she thought. _It was not a lie_.

 _Incroyable_ , she thought. _Miraculeux_.

She felt her skin flush and her pulse accelerate in a way it had not since her early days working in research labs, since before she’d even earned her PhD. Now _this_ was the kind of project scientists waited entire careers for. _This_ was the kind of experiment that could catapult humanity into an entirely new era of scientific research, and somehow she was a part of it. Somehow she’d been given this chance. She scribbled observations in her notebook, eager to get on with the next phase of the project. Eager to learn more about 324B21.

Her fingers twitched, drumming an impatient rhythm on the desk, itching to grasp her mobile. She waited. After so long studying the clones from the safety of a laboratory, she had finally been trusted to observe one first hand. Field research. Her body hummed with anticipation.

Finally, the awkward boy scuttled off, leaving 324B21 alone.

324B21. _Cosima Niehaus_ , she reminded herself.

Her mobile rang, and she carried on speaking into the receiver as Aldous had instructed her to. _Get her attention, leave the transcript. She’ll follow you._

_“How do you know for certain that she will follow?” she’d asked him._

_Aldous let his eyes amble down her form, smiling knowingly._

_“Trust me, he said. “She will.”_

She could feel Cosima watching her from across the lab.

“Merde,” she swore, ending her fabricated conversation and tossing her mobile aside.

It was in that moment when she looked up, briefly holding Cosima’s gaze, that she felt it. It was small, very small, like a grain of sand had lodged itself uncomfortably between her heart and her rib cage.

 _She is so human_ , she thought. For some reason the thought made her uncomfortable, but it was a stupid thought, so she shrugged it off and continued on with her charade. She shifted her torso a bit, but the unpleasant sensation in her chest would not go away.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, gathering her things and hastening off.

The words felt strangely significant to her – much more so than they should have – and she felt that tiny grain of sand itching up against her breast. Her pure, childlike glee over her newly assigned role in this project flickered for only an instant, and for a second she felt that everything was impossibly large and enormously insurmountable and terrifyingly _real_. But the feeling flickered off again just as quickly as it had come on. She continued onward, her pulse sounding erratically in her eardrums as she settled herself against the antiseptic wall of the corridor, flushing with giddy anticipation.

But in the coming weeks that innocent excitement faded. Her flashes of panic became more frequent, and the weight in her chest grew heavier. She hadn’t thought this through. She had seen only the science and the opportunity and the intrigue. Somehow she’d overlooked the quite obvious fact that she would be monitoring a _person_. The word “subjects” had been tossed around so often in the lab that she’d only ever really thought of them as such. And she certainly hadn’t planned on caring about her subject; she hadn’t planned to actually enjoy her company at dinner or to admire the quirky workings of her mind or to want to explore her body in a way that was probably entirely unscientific. 

She hadn’t expected her to be so disconcertingly human.

 _Stupid_ , she thought.

Every time Cosima smiled at her, whenever she laughed or reached for her hand, that grain of sand would weigh more heavily in her chest. It weighed heavier and heavier until she felt that she carried a rock beneath her heart, and no matter how she twisted and shifted herself to alleviate the discomfort it would continue to press and scrape against her insides.

 _Too far_ , she would think. She thought of her days back in the lab, safe behind microscopes and synthetic genomes and petri dishes. _I have gone much too far._  

She laughed inwardly. If she’d believed she had already gone too far before, then now… well, now…

Now she was on fire. She felt the pressure of Cosima’s hand lessen against her as it slid back outside of lace, fingers trailing wet around her hips, gliding along the vertebrae of her back and up to the base of her neck.

She shivered, pressing their bodies closer.

 _I have gone much, much too far_.

She let Cosima pull her in for another kiss, her fingers – her _wet_ fingers, Delphine thought – still pressed firmly against the back of Delphine’s neck. Cosima pressed her tongue against Delphine’s lips, and Delphine heard herself moan. Her lips parted; she was losing control. She felt helpless. She felt unsafe.

She needed to act.

She shoved Cosima into the desk, tugging aggressively at her shirt straps and pushing her tongue forcefully into her mouth. Cosima moaned in surprise. Delphine snaked her hands hungrily down Cosima’s sides, curling her fingertips around the hem of her tank top and pulling it up over her head.

She told herself she was just curious. She told herself that this was about the science. Science was safe. Science she could control.

_I need to know which ones she’s in contact with._

Delphine rocked her hips against Cosima’s, grinding her into the desk. She felt tall and clumsy and desperate.

 _Cosima’s safety is at stake._  

She felt Cosima’s hands on her waist, sliding her skirt off her hips and letting it fall to the floor. She responded by burying her fingertips in the folds of Cosima’s skirt, tugging until it slid down her legs and to the ground. She backed Cosima against the desk again and kissed her open-mouthed down her neck, struggling to eclipse unwelcome thoughts with the taste and the smell and the motion of her.

_I need you to dig deeper, faster._

It wasn’t working. She wondered if the others felt the same, moved the same, tasted the same. It was a strange thought, and she couldn’t stop thinking it. She felt stupid and desperate, but she needed to drive out her mind’s persistent clamoring of _DYAD_ and _clones_ and _Cosima’s safety is at stake,_ so she tried to lose herself in the detail of Cosima. She strained to memorize the specific shade and texture of her skin ( _For science_ , she thought). She absorbed herself with the taste and shape of her mouth. She learned the curve of her back, the rhythm of her movements, the timbre of her moans; she was all hastened exploration and frantic caresses because if she didn’t fill her mind with these small things then she would remember all of the less-small things. The insurmountable things.

 _Too far_ , the voice in her head reminded her.

 _I need to know which ones she’s in contact with_ , it pestered.

She arched her hips against Cosima and pressed her into the desk, hard. She needed to quell the incessant thinking.

“Take off your boots,” Cosima breathed, still arched against the desk. She steadied herself as Delphine backed away and crouched down to pull off her boots, using the moment to attempt to organize her own turbulent thoughts.

Cosima watched the taut muscles of Delphine’s forearms as she struggled to remove her boots, coordination lost in her fervor. Her eyes drifted to the tensed muscles of her abdomen, noticed the tremble in her fingers, and it suddenly occurred to her how very new all of this was to Delphine.

If anything she knew about Delphine were true, that is.

She hoped to God that Sarah wasn’t right.

Suddenly Delphine’s body was again flush against hers, hips arched, frenetic hands twisting themselves into her dreadlocks and drawing her forcefully into a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

None of this was what Cosima had expected. It was all too awkward and eager and utterly inelegant to be truly Delphine.But maybe this was not part of the lie; maybe this was the lie slipping. Maybe _this_ was Delphine exposed. Not the cool, lithe blonde who moved with such easy confidence, but this warm woman who moved so frantically and enthusiastically against her.

 _Shut up, Cosima_ , she told herself. _Don’t go there_.

Delphine’s hands untangled themselves from her hair and slipped down her neck and shoulders. Cosima felt long fingers clasp themselves around her wrist, pulling her hand down to brush lace.

“Please, Cosima,” Delphine pleaded. But Delphine did not look at her. Her back was arched, her head tossed back, and her eyes squeezed shut.

Cosima hesitated. She still did not know all of the rules to this game, but something in Delphine’s uneasy caresses and rough bursts of passion told her that they were now far, far outside the confines of whatever game Delphine had signed up for. It unsettled Cosima.

Delphine’s mouth met her neck aggressively, all breath and tongue and teeth. She pressed Cosima’s hand lower. Cosima could feel her jagged breathing, hot and wet into her shoulder.

“ _Please_ ,” Delphine repeated, burying her head in Cosima’s neck. She was shaking.

 _Too far_ , Delphine thought. _Too far._

 “Woah woah woah, Delphine,” Cosima stopped her, bringing her hands up to Delphine’s face and gently turning it towards her own. She looked squarely into her eyes, concerned and suspicious. Delphine wasn’t sure which one terrified her more.

“Are you okay?” Cosima asked her, gently.

“Yes,” she answered, but too quickly. Cosima regarded her skeptically. Delphine’s pupils were dilated, shocked and guilty, but her reply was breathy and her gaze wanting. And then Cosima saw it: the thing about Delphine that had really begun to unsettle her. The thing that told her maybe this was not all part of the ruse.

Fear. Delphine was afraid. _Too_ afraid.

It was stupid, but she felt compelled to _comfort_ her. Felt compelled to comfort this woman who was in all probability a liar and a spy, who could very well be an orchestrator of illegal and unsavory cloning trials. At the very least, a woman who had signed up to study another human being as if she were a lab rat.

Or she might not know what she’s doing. She might not know about clones. She might be like Paul.

_Don’t go there, Cosima. You don’t know. She could be dangerous._

But it was too late. It had been too late since the day she’d seen her sobbing in that shining white hallway. It had been too late since they’d sprinted so gleefully into the snow, giggling and smiling with arms and purses and wine bottles flailing about them. It had been too late when she had insisted on being so goddamned _European_ and kissed her on the side of the mouth like that. And it was still too late when she’d invited Leekie to their table, because even though Cosima _knew_ it then – saw through the flimsy charade – she still couldn’t stop herself from hoping.

_But that’s why I like her._

She wanted to believe it. Even if she could believe nothing else, maybe she could believe that.

Whoever she was – and whatever she was doing – Delphine was most definitely not okay right now, despite her too-quick “Yes.” Cosima pulled Delphine’s face to meet hers and kissed her softly.

“Okay,” Cosima whispered huskily, forehead rested against Delphine’s, “But let’s slow down, yeah?”

But Delphine couldn’t slow down. Slow meant thinking. Slow meant _DYAD_ and _focus_ and _clones_ , and there was no space for that just now.

So she took control, pushing Cosima onto the bed, biting and clawing at her skin. She kissed her hard, knocking her glasses off. She covered her, moving frantically over her body, desperate in her attempt to fill her mind with every detail of Cosima’s form.

Cosima could scarcely begin to match Delphine’s hurried pace. She could only arch her head back and moan, clutching at the sheets, resigning herself to the effect this woman had on her.

Delphine was everywhere, losing herself in the nuances of Cosima’s body, digging her fingers greedily into her back, pushing her tongue roughly into her mouth. She was in control. She could make herself forget.

_This was still simple._

She let her hands crawl down Cosima’s back, digging too hard and trailing red inflamed skin beneath her fingertips. She straddled her, thigh between Cosima’s legs, and pulled her hips up to press against her own. The rest of Cosima’s torso followed, and Cosima seized Delphine’s face to pull her in hungrily for a kiss. Delphine’s hand dropped down between Cosima’s legs, and she lingered over the lace there. A sharp intake of breath, and then she froze. Her eyes widened, and her hand remained still.

_She didn’t know what to do._

She panicked, and her thoughts became a storm in her skull. The rock in her chest weighed heavy, scraping against her ribs. 

 _Merde_.

This time Cosima didn’t bother asking _if_ something was wrong.

“Hey, hey, Delphine… Okay, what’s up?” she asked, gently resting her fingertips on Delphine’s hips.

Delphine couldn’t answer. Her hand drifted back up to Cosima’s waist, and she remained there, suspended, breathing shakily.

Cosima sat up halfway and brought one hand to rest on Delphine’s cheek. “Hey, we can totally stop, you know,” she tried to sound rational, but her voice was husky and her eyes dark.

“I… I’m sorry, I’ve never…” Delphine faltered, biting her lip nervously. She turned her head and fixed her gaze on the floor. Her skin pulsated with nervous energy, and she could do nothing to distract herself from it.

“Here, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Cosima assured her, bringing her hands around to rest gently on Delphine’s upper arms. There it was, that damned desire to _comfort_ again. “Let’s just…”

She tilted her head up and kissed Delphine softly.

“Let’s just…”

She shifted over so that Delphine was no longer on top, but beside her on the bed. She continued to kiss her delicately, using her fingertips to write gentle patterns into the flesh of her arms until she felt Delphine’s body relax. Gradually, she rolled herself over so that she was on top of her. She sat up, straddling her, and let her hands roam up and down her abdomen. She watched goose bumps prick up on pale flesh. She dipped back down and captured Delphine’s lips with her own, coaxing her body upwards. Delphine rose up to meet her, and Cosima brushed her fingers over the clasp of Delphine’s bra.

Delphine tensed again, and Cosima hesitated before letting her hands drop. Instead, she reached up and slowly slid one strap off of Delphine’s shoulder, pushing the fabric down to expose her breast. She planted a soft kiss there, pausing for only a moment before kissing her open-mouthed on her nipple. She couldn’t suppress a small smile when she felt it harden against her lips. Delphine’s hips arched up into Cosima’s, nails digging deeper into her back. She let her head drop back and bit down on her lip, stifling a moan.

 _Too much_ , Delphine thought.

It was all too slow and too gentle and too…

The world _love_ flashed in Delphine’s mind, but she buried it. It was ridiculous, and there were already far too many troubles vying for prominence in her mind.

_It was supposed to be simple._

Delphine wanted to go fast again. She wanted teeth and tongue and bodies pressing hurriedly up against one another. She wanted eyes closed and heads tossed back and nails digging into flesh. She needed to lose herself in that frenetic pace, needed it because when she slowed down she could feel the rock scraping her chest and the guilt hot on her cheeks and the immensity of the web she’d tangled herself into.

 _She_ is _the experiment_ , Delphine thought. The thought filled her with awe and guilt and heat all at once.

She wanted to go fast again, but Cosima held her in some sort of trance. Cosima knew all of the moves to this dance, and she was dancing it with deliberate and mesmerizing rhythm. She explored Delphine’s body slowly, lingering everywhere with eyes and hands and lips. Delphine shivered, unable to move. Cosima lifted her hand to stroke her face, searching her eyes for some answer. Delphine didn’t understand the question that Cosima was asking, but whatever it was it made her feel naked and vulnerable. A panic flared up in her. Cosima was seeing too much of her. Cosima would find her out. She shifted uncomfortably, and the rock scraped against her heart and sternum.

Nothing about this felt like science.

Cosima was pulling on some part of her that had remained untouched for a very long time, and it was dangerous. It was far too dangerous. Cosima continued her careful exploration of Delphine’s body, and some irrational part of Delphine thought that Cosima might somehow find her out in this way; thought she would see written in the pattern of freckles on her back some clue to her deceit, or discover that the hairs on her arm somehow spelled out a warning.

She wanted to stop her, but she couldn’t.

Cosima’s hand slipped under her bra, and Delphine felt the ache between her legs intensify. She dug her nails into the bare skin of Cosima’s back, pressing up against her.

Cosima planted slow kisses down Delphine’s neck and collarbone, pausing at her breast to take her nipple into her mouth. Her mouth was open and her tongue hot. Delphine dug her hands into the bed sheets.

 _Merde_.

Cosima continued her descent, gently pushing Delphine’s thighs apart and settling herself between them. She sketched out careful patterns on the insides of her legs. Delphine could feel the tremble of her fingers, and her grip on the bed sheets tightened.

Cosima’s fingers hooked into the lace on her hips, and Delphine knew that Cosima wanted nothing more than to peel the fabric away and expose her.

But she wasn’t ready for that.

Cosima sensed it, and instead simply kissed her open-mouthed over her underwear.  Delphine’s hips arched up, and Cosima could feel her heat. She lingered for only a few moments before sliding back up and kissing her deeply on her mouth, knuckles pressed gently against her jawline, fingers gliding tenderly down her neck and collarbone. Delphine shivered.

Cosima sat up, drawing Delphine up with her. It was then that she pulled back a bit, fingers still resting on Delphine’s cheekbones, and looked into her eyes searchingly. It took a great deal of effort, but Delphine held her gaze. The energy of it shook them both. Delphine felt her stomach twisting up. Her eyes flickered away for a second, but Cosima’s gaze drew her back in.

This time, the answer to whatever question she was asking was _yes_.

Delphine kissed her, eager and open and not in the least bit frantic. Cosima smiled softly at the change. Slowly, she crept her hand down Delphine’s abdomen, pausing at the hem of her underwear. She could feel the muscles there quavering. She could feel Delphine’s whole body quavering. Delphine dropped her head back in anticipation, but Cosima used her free hand to rest her fingertips on her cheek and gently coax her head back up to meet her gaze.

She slipped her fingers beneath the lace and felt her, hot and wet. Cosima moaned. Delphine’s breath caught in her throat. She tried to drop her head back again, but Cosima held her still. She watched her pupils dilate. She watched her lips turn impossibly pink. She wanted to see all of her.

 _She knows_ , Delphine thought. She was sure of it now. _And she’s doing this anyway._

Delphine wished more than anything that she could look away, but she could not bring herself to do so. Cosima’s gaze was magnetic. She continued to stroke her, continued to just _look_ at her, and Delphine could not take it any more. She couldn’t watch Cosima and see those things in her eyes while she was doing _that_ to her, even though she _knew_ , or she would come undone. So she closed her eyes and buried her face in Cosima’s neck, arching her hips into her hand and trying her best to forget.

 _Too far_ , _too far._

She felt Cosima’s free hand tangle itself into her hair. She felt her drop her head back to expose more of her neck, and Delphine began to kiss her there. When she felt Cosima’s fingers slip inside of her, her whole body rocked. She gasped and bit down hard into Cosima’s shoulder, digging her nails into her back.

_Trop loin, je suis allée trop loin!_

Cosima moved within her, slowly at first, and their eyes were locked again. Cosima still seemed to be searching for something, and Delphine feared that she might finally find it, because Delphine was beginning to unravel. 

 _She knows_ , Delphine thought. 

She dug her nails in deeper, leaving systems of red crescent moons all down Cosima’s back as she continued to move within her.

_Trop loin, trop loin._

Cosima was on top of her again, and moving more quickly. Her thigh pressed into the back of her hand. Delphine had been struggling to hold onto herself, but now she completely lost control over her body. She felt terrified and powerless and liberated, and for at least those moments there were no thoughts of DYAD or of cloning or of spying. She could see only Cosima, could feel only Cosima.

Cosima, whose breath was short and hot against the crook of her neck… Cosima, who was oh so staggeringly and unexpectedly human.

_But that’s why I like her._

Delphine brought her in for a crushing kiss, and Cosima’s fingers curled inside of her. Delphine came apart. She could feel her molecules separating, DNA unfurling and chemical bonds breaking. Her body became a mess of atoms floating above the mattress and seeping themselves into Cosima’s bed, into her body, into her life.

She hung in the moment for as long as she could, but her body fell slowly back together again. Her DNA twisted back up and her molecules reattached themselves into their former structures, but perhaps they couldn’t remember precisely how they had formerly arranged themselves, because Delphine felt that everything within her hummed with a faintly altered frequency.

Cosima collapsed beside her, one hand draped over Delphine’s stomach. Delphine felt the steady up and down of it, the rise and fall of her stomach becoming less pronounced as her breath returned to her. Delphine brought her hand up to rest over Cosima’s, squeezing softly. Cosima looked over at her and smiled hazily. Delphine felt warm all over.

 _Merde_ , Delphine thought. _I like her_.

324B21 _. Cosima._

She felt the rock weigh heavy in her chest again, and she couldn’t stand it. She turned her body, lightly resting her fingertips on Cosima’s cheek, and kissed her full and hot on the mouth.

_It was supposed to be simple._


	3. Three

“So, what is so important about this?” Delphine asked skeptically, thumbing through pages tattooed with jagged lines and neat rows of As and Cs and Ts and Gs. “What is it that I am looking for?”

Aldous Leekie simply stood back, grinning knowingly.

“What do you see?” he asked her.

“Well, it is a genome, bien sûr,” she stated, “But I do not understand why you are showing this to me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, glancing about the sparsely lit lab. Her uneasiness pricked up, as it had when Aldous had initially asked her to meet with him so far outside of normal work hours. As it had when he’d greeted her briefly, only to lead her abruptly down this obscure corridor and past a threshold requiring a security clearance she had not previously known existed. As it had when she’d realized that she and Aldous seemed to be entirely alone in this wing of the institute.

Alone in this icy, angular room.

Aldous smiled a crooked smile, and the hairs pricked up on the back of her neck. The chill in the room intensified.

“You don’t find anything unusual about it?” he prodded. He had paused only slightly before curling his lips deliberately around the word _unusual_. His emphasis had the desired effect on Delphine. She shuddered.

Everything about this meeting and the demeanor in which it was being carried out gave Delphine pause. Her body buzzed with the uncomfortable feeling that she was about to become privy to information as fascinating as it was nefarious, but she couldn’t muster the will to excuse herself from the situation. She felt strangely, irrationally drawn to this man and his genius.

She looked down at the genome and back again to Aldous. She had a queer feeling in her stomach.

“I see nothing unusual,” she admitted, “But I expect that I am missing something. What is so exceptional about this particular genome?” She said it a bit cheekily, hoping to diffuse some of the tension that hung so tightly around her.

“Delphine,” Aldous began, “What would you do if I told you –” he cut himself off. He needed to be sure he went about this in the best way. He paused, sitting back comfortably on his heels.

“How much do you know about human cloning?” he asked deliberately.

Delphine’s blood froze for a moment. But… non, he could not be implying…

“It is not my area of… how would you say it? It is not my specialty,” she offered cautiously.

“Delphine,” he began again, “I would very much like to bring you in on this project. With your background in immunology you would be a crucial addition to our team. However,” he paused, and a threatening seriousness crept into his eyes that sent shivers over skin already pimpled with goose bumps.

_Why did she feel so cold?_

Leekie’s gaze was unwavering, and he leaned in close. Too close.

“I need to know that you can be trusted.”

Delphine couldn’t shake the notion that it was somehow a threat.

_Go ahead, say no. I dare you._

And she could have. She could have said it. A simple “no,” a tactful “Thank you, but I do not think I am the right person for this project.” She could have walked out without ever knowing. This was clearly something momentous, and she was not entirely certain that she possessed the nerve for it.

But still, this man and his work intrigued her.

Still…

“Yes,” she said slowly, “You can trust me. Now what is this project?”

Aldous smiled.

“Good. Of course, I already knew that I could trust you, or you wouldn't be here. But I need to know that you can handle – well, I need to know that you’re willing to go deeper. This project, it’s revolutionary,” he said, his eyes glowing frantic, “But it may be a bit further outside the bounds of legality than you’re accustomed to.”

“I assume that is why we are meeting in this manner,” she answered flatly, arms still folded stiffly around her middle.

He grinned another of his sideways grins.

“Are you interested?”

Delphine bit her lower lip. She was hesitant, yes, but in the end her curiosity muffled her apprehension.

“Oui,” she said resolutely, “Yes, I am interested.”

Another smile. No matter what her response, always that same crooked smile. Always a sideways flash of those oddly perfect teeth.

“Delphine,” he almost whispered, forcing her to lean in more closely. He seemed to enjoy the feel of her name on his lips. “Delphine, what would you say if I told you that we had succeeded in creating human clones?”

He said it slowly, savoring each syllable, relishing in the slow widening of Delphine’s eyes, the gentle parting of her lips, the short, astonished inhale.

Her lungs turned to ice.

_Succeeded in creating human clones._

Her loosely balled fist rose to her lips, thumb and forefinger nearly pressing against teeth as she turned to consider the genome more closely. Aldous simply stood, waiting patiently. He wore that same smile, as if he’d known how this conversation would play out before it had begun.

She brushed her fingers over the pages of the genome, marveling at the billions of base pairs coded there. Base pairs linked and ordered by scientists. Her head was a whirl of _How?_ and _When?_ and _Who?_ and _Why?_ , but her thoughts kept swarming around the _Who_. What kind of human was represented by the lines and letters splashed across these pages, and where was this person? Had she been unknowingly working alongside clones in the lab this entire time? Had she interacted with them? If what Aldous said were indeed true, then anything seemed possible. _He_ could be a clone.

But non, he was too old. A clone would be younger. But then, the telomeres of a clone would be shorter. Would they not age more rapidly? Or simply die younger? Non, non, it was an impossible thought. Human cloning, the notion of it, it was ridiculous. Entirely impossible, unfathomable, unethical. 

Wasn’t it?

 _Clones?_ _Merde_.

Aldous watched her as she stroked her fingers carefully over the pages, her eyes wide, as if for Delphine that simple action somehow brought to life the human coded on the pages beneath her fingers.

She was in awe, and the slow smolder of _thrill_ and _potential_ and _breakthrough_ began to thaw her frozen insides. The air in the cold room now felt strangely hot and sticky against her skin.

 _Incroyable_.

The corners of her mouth turned softly into an apprehensive smile, but she bit down on it.

_Outside the bounds of legality._

But she was already tumbling down the rabbit hole. She had tiptoed so cautiously to the edge of it. She had leaned only just faintly forward. She had stepped ever so carefully over the brink. But it didn’t matter; she had chosen to fall, and now she could not un-choose it. Her stomach twisted.

But still, she couldn’t stop that slow, cautious smile.

Aldous merely observed her silent reaction. That same cocky grin, that same air of omniscience.

 “So,” he said, smirking, “Where shall we begin?”

* * *

Delphine lay on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling. She was not quite close enough that she could feel it, but she could hear Cosima’s breath flowing evening in and out of her nostrils. She closed her eyes and tried to match the slow, steady rhythm of it, but her own breath kept catching in her throat. She feared that the erratic and thunderous beating of her heart would wake her, but she could not calm herself.

_Merde, what have I done?_

She shifted herself uncomfortably, but she felt that her muscles stretched themselves across her bones differently than they had before. Tighter. Tenser. The heaviness in her chest was nearly unbearable, and she felt as if the cavern of her lungs had filled entirely with stone. 

She turned her head to gaze at Cosima. She appeared to be asleep, at least for the moment, so Delphine allowed her eyes to roam over the woman’s face and shoulders. She blushed when she dipped her gaze down to her breasts, wondering what they might look like unobstructed of lace. She blushed deeper when she realized she must have at one point seen the segments of Cosima’s DNA that coded for her breasts: for the curve of them, for size of them, for the color of them. She had already seen all of the most intimate parts of her biology, and yet here she was, blushing at the half-covered form sunk into the mattress beside her.

_Merde. Merde, Merde, Merde._

In her mind, she traced her fingers over the pages of the genome Leekie had first showed to her in that dark, angular laboratory. It could have belonged to any of the clones, certainly.

But it could also have belonged to Cosima.

She lifted her hand from her stomach and brushed her fingers lightly across the length of Cosima’s arm, following intently with her eyes. She saw the genome laid out over pale skin, the colorful bars twisting and intertwining themselves with the dandelion tattooed there. She traced her fingers along its stem, watching as its wispy seeds floated along her arm in a whirl of Cs and Ts and Gs and As.

She sighed, resting her hand over Cosima’s, and curled her fingers around her wrist.

It was all too impossible. 

_Yes, you can trust me. Now what is this project?_

She felt as though she might laugh or cry, but she couldn’t wake Cosima. Not yet. She needed to collect herself again. It was just sex. Sex with a woman, yes, but still just sex. It didn’t have to mean anything. It didn’t have to.

It wasn’t supposed to.

_But it had._

Cosima had made it _mean_ something. Delphine had sought to lose herself only for the moment, to perhaps sate her curiosity, but now she had lost herself so utterly that she could scarcely begin to locate the start of the returning path. _Curiosity_ now sounded a flimsy excuse.

_Non, remain objective._

Cosima was in danger. Aldous needed information. Information that he would use to keep Cosima safe. Objectively, it all seemed reassuringly clear.

But Cosima had made it _mean_ something, and experiments weren’t meant to do that. Subjects weren’t meant to do that. Subjects were meant to be manipulated, and not to manipulate. She was here to monitor and to research and to manipulate Cosima. Cosima, the experiment. Cosima, the subject.

_Cosima, 324B21._

Cosima’s fingers twitched, raising goose bumps where they rested on the flesh of Delphine’s stomach. Delphine shivered and turned her head, barely catching the small smile at the corners of Cosima’s mouth. Delphine waited, but her subject’s breath remained even. She was still asleep.

Cosima is in danger. Aldous needs information. Information that will ensure Cosima’s safety. And part of her assignment was to keep Cosima safe, was it not?

Because of the experiment. To maintain the integrity of the experiment. Because that is the most important thing, non?

_You are helping her. She would understand._

As she gazed at Cosima, a brilliant and unbearable warmth began to glow in Delphine’s chest. It roared through the rest of her body; something wonderful alloyed with shame and terror and a horrible burning sensation. It was all too much.

Delphine felt herself illuminated: terrified and elated and helpless.

She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, tilting her head back into the pillow to stay the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. She had fucked this up so extraordinarily that it bordered on comedy. She stifled a bitter laugh, but it manifested itself instead in a choked sob. Her stomach shook, and Cosima stirred.

 _Merde_ , Delphine thought. _Not now_.

She could feel Cosima’s gaze on her, but she did her best to swallow her sobs and maintain her composure.

“Hey, are you okay? 

“Yes,” she managed, eyelids pressed tightly shut. She swallowed another sob.

“You sure?” Cosima pressed. The concern evident in her gaze was marred only slightly by apprehension, but marred even more so by something that vaguely resembled hurt. For a flash of a moment Delphine yearned to lunge forward and kiss her, but instead bit her lip and sunk her head back into the pillow. She couldn’t.

“I… I cry after sex with boys too,” she offered lamely. It seemed to be enough for Cosima, although Delphine noticed that a soft vulnerability still lingered in her expression.

“Poor you,” she teased, not pressing her further. Perhaps she didn’t believe her entirely, but she said nothing more on the matter, instead turning her attention to the study of Delphine’s hand. Her gaze was intensely serious, but her fingers moved inquisitively, carefully knitting themselves with Delphine’s.

Delphine could feel her nerve endings set alight wherever the skin of Cosima’s hand brushed against her own, and the little sparks that traveled up her arm radiated with a startling and increasing intensity as they dispersed throughout her body. It terrified her. 

Delphine remembered the edge. She remembered leaning over it, unable to discern what might lie in those depths. She remembered her insides somersaulting over themselves. And she remembered jumping, despite it all.

She was falling. Had fallen.

She had made her commitment with Aldous, with DYAD. Compromising the experiment was not an option.

“But you know what?” Delphine began, smiling stiffly. It was a stupid idea to start with, but she had to start with something. Had to at least get Cosima out of the bed. 

“I am never this hungry. I could kill for some ice cream.”

Cosima should have grown suspicious. Cosima should have pulled her out of bed and into the icy air with her. Cosima should have offered her something else; anything she already had in her freezer. Anything she had tucked into the back of a cupboard. Should have teased her, or kissed her, or accused her, but not believed her. Anything else. 

It shouldn’t have worked. Not this easily.

Cosima beamed, and Delphine’s chest was stone.

“Mmmm, okay. Your wish is my command,” she purred, and Delphine couldn’t suppress a weak smile. “I’m gonna go to the store and I’m gonna get us some Eskimo Pies.”

_It shouldn’t be this easy._

But perhaps now Cosima had let down her defenses. Perhaps now she trusted her.

_Or perhaps there is nothing here. Perhaps there is nothing to find._

“Eskimo?”

“Yeah,” she responded, shrugging her coat on over her lingerie.

“I don’t think I know it.”

_Yes, you can trust me (You are helping her. She would understand)._

“No?” she said, gathering her hair back over her coat. 

“No.”

_Yes, you can trust me (Perhaps there is nothing here. Perhaps there is nothing to find)._

“Prepare yourself,” she warned, settling her glasses on her nose, “You’re about to become a craven addict.”

Delphine smiled weakly.

_You can trust me._

“I think I already am.”

Delphine remembered the edge. She remembered leaning over it, unable to discern what might lie in those depths. She remembered her insides somersaulting over themselves. And she remembered jumping, despite it all. 

This time she hadn’t tiptoed so cautiously to the edge. This time she hadn’t leaned only just faintly forward. This time there was no careful step over the brink, no mental calculation of risk swayed only slightly by curiosity. 

This time she had stumbled backwards and careened in a mess of tangled limbs over the edge of a precipice she’d never even realized was there. She had been sauntering so perilously close to it all along – so unwittingly, so perilously close – ever since _Enchantée_ and _I am so glad you came_ and _Okay, one day_ and _That’s why I like her_. Ever since _I can’t stop thinking about that kiss._  

Cosima was meant to be malleable, manipulable, manageable.

This fall she hadn’t seen coming.


	4. Four

_Okay, so that was maybe, kind of, possibly, most definitely stupid._

_And dangerous. Ludicrously, impossibly, stupidly dangerous._

_Shit. But… shit._

Cosima couldn’t chase the smile out of her lips and eyes. Couldn’t rid her skin of that ridiculous glow or temper the silly bounce in her step. Couldn’t stop herself from acting a fool in front of the convenience store cashier, all stupid giddy smiles and ecstatic, fumbling fingers digging for change in coat pockets. Because Delphine wanted her. She _wanted_ her, and right now she was in her bed. The thought of Delphine sprawled out half-naked and twisted in her sheets turned Cosima’s cheeks all hot and crimson. Couldn’t she have just that for a moment, without all of the rest? The rest could come later. The rest she would deal with. She would, when she had to. But not now. Why should it have to be now?

_Because you are supposed to be monitoring her, you idiot. Not getting her ice cream._

She thought of Sarah. She thought of _I’ll obviously approach Delphine way more logically than that_. She thought of _No, you won’t_. She thought of Delphine, arching and trembling beneath her.

The icy air bit sharply against her flushed skin. She burned.

Okay, maybe Sarah had been a little more right than she’d wanted to admit. Maybe.

 _And anyway_ , Cosima thought, _I don’t even know what her deal is. She could still totally just be a student. A neolution groupie, a freaky Leekie. A huge dork_ (Cosima smiled at that) _. She may not even be my monitor._

(But she remembered Delphine, face half-masked by her wine glass, eyes glowing ruby with the reflection of it. She recalled the growing tension of her grip and the slow widening of her eyes as Leekie had so self-assuredly steered the conversation to the subject of human clones)

_Except that she totally is. Shit._

But Delphine had kissed her. _Delphine_ had kissed _her_. Was that within the realm of her duties as monitor? What were the parameters of this experiment? Were the monitors meant to engage in this way? Sarah jumped Paul. They still didn’t know who Alison’s monitor was. Beth slept with her monitor, but… Shit, why had she never asked Beth how she and Paul had met? Had he initiated everything? Had she? Were the rules consistent? Did it matter?

Could she trust Delphine?

 _Did it matter?_  

Because Delphine was stunning. Stunningly intelligent, stunningly goofy, stunningly sexy.

And Delphine wanted her. That part was not a lie.

Cosima’s stomach twisted and burned.

_No, you won’t. No, you won’t. No, you won’t._

Sarah’s voice echoed its unheeded warning in her head.

But Sarah could shove it. She could handle this.

She was a scientist, wasn’t she? She was accustomed to approaching a problem from every conceivable angle. And anyway, she’d always been a bit obsessive, especially when it came to research. Collect the data, sort it, analyze it, rearrange it. Challenge your hypothesis. Make fifteen new ones. Challenge those. Repeat. 

Delphine was no different.

Delphine begged to be solved, and Cosima had turned over a thousand versions of her in her head. Delphine the monitor. Delphine the student. Delphine the scientist.

Delphine was a great many things at once ( _too_ many things), and Cosima couldn’t suss out the ones that were merely playacted from the ones that were truly Delphine (but maybe Delphine couldn’t, either?). Everything about Delphine was too _something_.

Too friendly, too eager, too afraid.

Delphine the foreigner. Delphine the neolutionist. Delphine the liar. 

Cosima burned through lens after lens (Delphine the blackmailed, Delphine the curious, Delphine the willing), re-examining the same interactions over and over. Always seeing them tinted a slightly different shade. Never feeling that she was seeing things in quite their true color. 

_No, that doesn’t make sense. Maybe she meant to… but why did she? Oh, maybe that. That could be it. Maybe she was… But....no, damn. I don’t want that to be true. Couldn’t it also be that she…? But shit… it kind of…shit…_

Cosima craved knowledge. It was that thirst that set her mind off at such a dizzying pace, manifested in enthusiastic gesticulations and in words all tumbling over one another in their fervor to be shared. Solving problems was all passion and play for Cosima

But this whole Delphine thing? Well. This one she couldn’t quite solve.

And never before had she been so afraid of an answer.

So could Sarah - or anyone, really - blame her if she was maybe, just a little bit hesitant to put all of these pieces together? If she just wanted to step back and admire the few bits she had managed to fit together before she had to rearrange this Delphine she had pieced together into a being (possibly) far more sinister? 

Because Delphine was terrifying. Delphine was dangerous. Delphine was warm. Because her need for Delphine had washed over her all sudden and scorching and uncontrollable and _woah_. Well. This was new. Cosima was no stranger to need, but this was an entirely different shade of the thing. The burning red she could control, but this thing glowed hot-white and blinding and had hit her in a way that sunk her insides like lead into the earth and floated her mind all light and wispy into the ether. It was heady and intoxicating and entirely disconcerting. This was maybe more than she could control. 

_No, you won’t. No, you won’t. No, you won’t._

That unrelenting mantra landed heavy with each step.

_No, you won’t. No, you won’t. No, you won’t._

“Hey, Cosima!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_“Hey, Cosima!”_

Cosima had been absorbed in her research, the end of a pen wedged between her teeth while her ink-smeared hands painted lines of text with shocks of yellow. She didn’t usually make a habit of studying in coffee shops, but since Scott had lately made a habit of finding her in the library she’d become suddenly motivated to alter her routine. Today she’d tucked herself away at a table in the back corner of the coffee shop, hunched over a stack of scientific journals with her feet stretched out onto the opposite chair. She paid vague mind to the ebb and flow of students, professors, and visiting lecturers meeting around her, catching bits of promising new theories and flashes of criticism on lackluster papers. The place reeked of academia. 

She’d pretended not to notice when she heard the soft _click-click_ of heeled boots approaching her table, but her ears had pricked up at the sound of a soft “merci” moments earlier at the counter. She trained her eyes on the page in front of her, scanning over lines but absorbing nothing. The highlighter rested useless against her palm. The pen wavered between her clenching teeth. Her free hand gripped the binding of one journal just a bit tighter, thumb creasing the page. She listened as Delphine settled herself at the table just across from her, allowing herself a furtive glance before adjusting her glasses and dipping her gaze back down to her work.

 _Don’t engage_ , she thought. _Wait and see what she does_.

And then: _This is insane. I’m totally being paranoid. She’s probably just a student._

“Hey, Cosima!”

Her spine stiffened a bit and her nerves lit up. She looked up to see the beaming Immunology student.

“Hey, Delphine,” she replied with a lopsided smile, quickly grasping the pen from between her teeth, “What’s up?”

“I am sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I borrow this chair?” she asked, gesturing timidly towards where Cosima’s feet rested. 

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. Of course,” she stammered, scrambling to readjust herself.

_See? She just wanted a chair. Student, not monitor. Student._

“Thank you,” Delphine smiled warmly, wrapping her fingers around the back of the chair and beginning to turn, but she hesitated. Cosima noticed her fingers tense.

“W-What are you studying?” Her stutter was nearly imperceptible, masked by the borderline overzealous confidence of the inquiry, but it was not lost on Cosima. 

“Oh, this? Just going over some articles on epigenetics. For my thesis.” She displayed her ink-stained palms, fanning her fingers, “Sometimes I get a little overenthusiastic with the highlighting.”

Delphine leaned over to glance at Cosima’s work, smiling at the heavily highlighted pages and the margins crammed with clusters of seemingly indecipherable notes.

“Ah, I can see that,” she teased. “Do you mind if I ask, what is your thesis?”

Cosima’s eyes lit up in spite of her wariness.

“Oh, well I’m kind of like, crazy fascinated with epigenetic influence on cells, especially as it applies to…” she hesitated for a moment, hands uncharacteristically still, before continuing.

“Well, especially as it applies to clone cells,” she finished.

Delphine’s eyes might have widened. Cosima rushed on, hands reanimated and dancing about with her words.

“I don’t have the exact wording of it down yet, but I’m trying to do something on that. Still working it out, ya know?”

“Hm, clone cells. Really?” Delphine asked, apparently intrigued by the idea. If this was dangerous territory for her, she didn’t let it show.

“Yeah. Why, does that interest you?” She said it playfully, one eyebrow raised, but Cosima suspected that Delphine’s interest in this subject might be more than mere ironic coincidence.

“Yes, very much,” Delphine gushed. “Have you read-” she hesitated, suddenly shy. Cosima cocked her head inquisitively. “Actually, do you mind… do you mind if I sit here? With you?”

“Um, yeah. Of course,” Cosima faltered, the warmth simmering beneath her skin contrasting sharply with the heavy emptiness that had carved itself so abruptly into her belly. The strange, forced quality of Delphine’s request told her everything she needed to know.

This woman was not _just_ a student.

But her stilted movements, her elegant hands that twisted into themselves and couldn’t seem to rest comfortably anywhere she tried to set them, the absurd shyness that alternated so peculiarly with her overconfident inquiries into Cosima’s life; that was all interesting. Now _that_ intrigued her. 

This woman was clearly not _just_ anything.

“Thank you,” Delphine answered, gathering her things. The immensity of her smile nearly broke Cosima, who could only bite her lip to keep from smiling too broadly in return.

“It’s just, it is difficult to make friends here, I think,” Delphine continued as she sat across from Cosima, “I have not met very many people.”

“Hey, me neither,” Cosima assured her. Monitor or not, she liked this woman. And as long as she didn’t know for sure, what could it hurt to be friendly?

“You know I’m new here, too,” she continued. “Haven’t exactly had a lot of time to go out and make friends, you know? The work load is crazy.”

“Oh, yes, I know,” Delphine responded, hanging on a bit long to the ‘s.’ She leaned over the table, resting a hand on Cosima’s notes. Cosima flushed at the proximity.

“So, tell me about your thesis,” Delphine requested, eyes sparkling. “What are you reading?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 “Hey, Cosima!”

Cosima snapped out of her reverie, Delphine’s image fading into the present. She turned abruptly, tucking the box of eskimo pies under her arm, and smiled at the gangly, bespectacled boy lumbering toward her, all long limbs and staccato movements.

“Heeeey, Scott!” she greeted him, managing a sideways smile, “What’s up?”

“Oh, you know. Just taking a break to grab some much-needed caffeine,” he replied, smiling foolishly, his sentence punctuated by an overenthusiastic, stilted laugh. “I thought you said you were staying in all day? Lots of research?”

“Ohhh, yeah. Way busy. But, ya know. Ran out of ice cream. Total emergency,” she joked.

Scott guffawed, tapering off awkwardly. He shuffled his feet. Cosima simply waited patiently for him to recover; by now she had learned that it was best to ignore the evidence of his all-too-obvious crush.

“Oh, I meant to tell you!” he exclaimed suddenly. “I have that DNA you asked me to sequence. I haven’t looked too closely at it, but it looks like there’s some weird stuff in there. What did you say these samples were for?” 

Cosima’s eyes lit up. “You have it?” she asked, completely ignoring his questions. “With you? Now?”

“Oh, no. No. I, um. I have it at my, um, at my apartment,” he stumbled, the reddening of his cheeks contrasting harshly with their dull, wintery surroundings. “If you want you could, uh, you could come over and we could discuss it?” He smiled. Sheepish, hopeful.

Cosima hesitated, but then considered it for a moment. She wanted desperately to know what “weird stuff” Scott had found, but this wasn’t exactly the ideal time. She supposed she could run back and make her apologies to Delphine; could tell her that something had come up, could tell her that... But then she remembered Delphine _in her bed_ , and the slowly melting Eskimo Pies tucked beneath the warmth of her arm, and _I think I already am_ , and… well, what was one more day? Plus, the thought of spending the afternoon at Scott’s apartment and pretending not to notice his over-obvious attempts at flirting sounded kind of majorly unappealing.

“Dude, no, that’s awesome, and like, thank you _so_ much. Really. But I’ve got a ton of stuff to catch up on, so I’ve really gotta get back,” she explained, jerking her thumb in the general direction of her own apartment and smiling apologetically.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. You’re busy. No problem,” he stammered, waving it off. “Maybe tomorrow?”  
  
“Yeah, definitely. You wanna just meet me in the lab?,” she suggested gently, “We can go over it there.”  
  
Scott’s face fell a bit, but he forced a smile. 

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely. Awesome. I’ll see you then. Okay.” He wavered, obviously not quite ready to end the conversation.

“Great! I’ll text you,” Cosima concluded, waving a quick goodbye and skipping off towards her apartment.

“R-right. Bye!” Scott stammered, ducking into the convenience store.

Cosima wished that she could discuss her research with Delphine. Delphine was intelligent, that much was glaringly apparent. You couldn’t fake intelligence or passion like that. And as lovely as her mind was, it was her _passion_ that really pulled Cosima in.

Still, she had to be realistic. She didn’t know what Delphine knew, or if she could trust her, or… anything about her, really. Not for certain. She only knew how easy it was for her to follow the peculiar pattern of thoughts that formed in Delphine’s head and tumbled out in lightly accented English. She knew that she adored the way her eyes lit up and how her English became a muddle of disordered, overenthusiastic phrases when she became too enamored with a topic. She knew that she loved Delphine’s perspective, her willingness to play devil’s advocate, the vastness of her knowledge. These things couldn’t be fabricated. These things she was certain belonged to Delphine.

She had barely started back towards her apartment when her pocket buzzed. She pulled out her phone, a small grin manifesting when she read “Delphine Beraud.” She opened the message.

 

DELPHINE: Where are you? Almost back?

DELPHINE: I miss you.

 

The ridiculous grin that spread across Cosima’s face warmed her down to her toes. She couldn’t stop smiling, not even after she’d typed a response and shoved her phone back into her coat pocket.

Screw Sarah. Screw Sarah, because she believed in this. She believed in Delphine. Even if something deep in her gut was telling her that it was _too much_ , that _Delphine_ was too much, too perfect. That Delphine had kind of bypassed the whole gay panic thing entirely and gone straight from losing her gay v-card to sending ridiculously cheesy texts. Something about _I miss you_ and _I think I already_ _am_ and _But that’s why I like her_ seemed slightly off, although Cosima clung to these things; believed in them just a bit too earnestly, just as they were offered a touch too ardently. It was too much, too soon. And something about that rang _false_. Something about that screamed _counterfeit_.

But Delphine was not all perfection. It was the imperfections that sped Cosima’s heartbeat and muddled her senses. The imperfections that spelled _danger_. Delphine clumsily pawing Cosima’s sweater off of her shoulders. Delphine, crimson down to her chest, stumbling over her own tangled feet to fall onto the bed. The sharp widening of eyes when Cosima had dipped her fingers between her legs and _felt_ her, slick and hot; the hitch of breath, as if Delphine couldn’t quite believe it either. As if it were all some sort of accidental truth that she had never intended.

It was those things that had dismantled Cosima’ defenses and planted that stupid seed of hope within her. Those things that rang impossibly, improbably, imperfectly honest. And if Cosima – against her better judgment – was now allowing Delphine’s too-perfect _I think I already am_ to replace the mantra of _No you won’t, no you won’t, no you won’t_ that pounded over and over against her temple, then what did it matter? What did it matter if this woman was trying a little too hard because of the all-too-probable spying thing? The rest was real. And the rest made her giddy. Impossibly, stupidly giddy.

She finally came upon her apartment building, stopping momentarily to wipe her feet on the doormat there. The ground was dirty with old snow. Cigarette butts and old flyers littered the doorway.

“Join the Literature Club for a Reading of George’s Orwell’s _1984_!”

Cosima hesitated.

_Delphine the liar. Delphine the spy. Delphine the neolutionist._

She could be all of those things, Cosima thought.

_Delphine the student. Delphine the curious. Delphine the willing._

Yeah, she could be all of those things.

She reached for the door handle and continued onward, reluctant to dwell on it.

Cosima entered her apartment to find Delphine half-sat on the window sill, smoke billowing from the cigarette cradled between her middle and forefinger.

“Hey,” she said, smiling as she closed the door behind her.

“Hey,” Delphine replied, half-turning and smiling warmly. She wore Cosima’s robe, and as she turned it fell open to reveal her bare midsection. Her legs stretched out, long and bare, from underneath the flimsy fabric. Cosima warmed, a strange feeling settling itself unbidden into her bones. It was the first time since she had moved to Minnesota that she had come back to her apartment to have it feel truly like _home_. 

She could think of nothing more dangerous.

She could think of nothing more wonderful.

Delphine glowed, and the way she seemed to fit so easily (into her robe, into her apartment, into her life) terrified Cosima. This could be Delphine. This could be a Delphine she could love.

( _stupid, stupid, stupid_ )

But why not _this_ Delphine? There were many possible Delphines, so why couldn’t it be this one? Even just for today?  Just for today. She could handle this. Would handle this.

…when she had to.

Delphine chewed on her lower lip, gaze locked with Cosima’s. 

Cosima moved towards her, tossing the box of ice cream carelessly onto the desk.

Yes. _When she had to._


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story was only meant to be one more chapter, but somehow Delphine's inner monologue got a little out of control and this happened instead (oops?). So I'm splitting the final chapter into two and posting this part now. Last installment to come... eventually (sorry, I'm shit at updating and make no promises). You guys rock!

* * *

 

_She knew._

Unsteadily, Delphine slipped Cosima's documents back into their hiding place.

 _She knew_.

Her subject was self-aware. A month ago, this would have been  _thrilling_. A month ago, she might have considered this a  _fascinating development_. A month ago, it would have simply been:

"324B21 aware of origins. Has had contact with multiple other subjects. Nature and extent of contact currently unknown. Will proceed with caution until further instruction is received."

It should have been simple. This discovery should have manifested itself in clean typeface fitted between even margins. Should have manifested itself in a muted, academic sort of excitement and nothing more.

And it was exciting, really. It was  _fascinating_. Because her subject – Cosima –  _knew_. She was self-aware, and the world of possibilities that this opened up should have made Delphine's skin hum.

But instead the twisty, empty feeling that had settled deep in Delphine's chest polluted all of it. Because Cosima was in danger, and Delphine  _cared_. Cared more deeply than she should for a  _subject_.

Delphine bit her lip and sighed.

 _Some of them seem to be dead_ …

Why? How? Was this the danger to which Aldous had referred earlier? Had these other clones succumbed to the same threat that now endangered Cosima? She wondered (somewhat bitterly) why no one at DYAD had bothered to inform her of this. She knew of the autoimmune disease, of course, but this threat seemed to be of an entirely different (and of an ostensibly external) nature. She was no stranger to the surreptitious workings of the DYAD, but she would have imagined that Aldous might have at least seen fit to  _inform_  her that their subjects were suffering mysterious deaths.

She wondered how much Cosima knew, and felt a sudden pang of regret at rushing to disclose this information to Aldous. Perhaps she had acted too rashly? Every day she became warier of the DYAD and its multitude of unsavory secrets that seemed to be constantly pushing up from its bowels and tangling themselves in the ever-evolving web of what she knew. Still, she'd always played by the rules. She'd never considered keeping her own secrets, not before… well. Not before this.

Not before Cosima.

She nervously chewed at a fingernail. It would have been enough, to discover Cosima's knowledge of the clones. It would have been enough, to betray Cosima, to lie to Aldous in the same breath. It would have been enough to tumble so unexpectedly into the bed of such a magnetic woman. To find her senses dismantled and her loyalties so abruptly realigned. All because this woman – her  _subject_ , mon dieu – had made it  _mean_  something. Had made her feel warm, and full, and  _loved,_  and so, so much less alone.

No, she was not meant to feel this way. But denial was something that never sat well with Delphine, and she could not ignore the reality – surprising as it was – of how Cosima made her feel.

And Cosima  _knew_. Knew about clones, knew about DYAD. But about Leekie? About Delphine's own involvement? She couldn't be sure. While Cosima seemed skeptical of Leekie – who she knew to be involved with DYAD – she seemed to (mostly) trust Delphine.

And that was good. She could use that. Had used that.

 _Merde_.

She plucked a cigarette from her bag and propped herself up onto the windowsill.

She glanced at her phone, hovering over Cosima's response.

 **COSIMA** : Yeah, almost back. Ran into my lab partner.  
 **COSIMA** : I'll be there in five :)

She inhaled deeply, pressing her eyes shut and focusing on the slow burn of smoke that washed down her throat. Cosima would be back any minute. She scrolled back up to her own texts.

 **DELPHINE** : Where are you? Almost back?  
 **DELPHINE** : I miss you.

She sighed out a curl of dusky smoke.

She'd only been trying to gauge how much time she had left before Cosima's return, but now she found herself regretting the addition of "I miss you." Even after she'd typed it, her thumb had stalled over the "send" key for more than a few moments. She knew it was probably too much. (Too eager, yes. Too disingenuous? Perhaps. But the burn in her cheeks suggested that it was the alarmingly unsuspected  _truthfulness_  of the statement that sat so oddly with Delphine).

She laughed (no other reaction seemed appropriate), and buried her free hand in her tousled hair. Everything (the entire room, her borrowed robe,  _her own skin_ ) smelled of Cosima.

_What would Aldous think?_

He wouldn't mind the sex so much. That she knew. That would intrigue him, most likely.

Delphine shuddered. The idea of explaining – of  _detailing_  – any of this to Aldous made her stomach churn.

And he would know. That stupid, pompous air of omniscience that had at once been such a source of fascination to her but now only  _irked_.

 _Putain_.

She wondered if this had somehow been a part of his plan all along. Certainly he'd known of Cosima's orientation, but could he have predicted that Delphine would fall as well? Surely he had known that Delphine would be  _scientifically_  fascinated by Cosima – by 324B21, the experiment – because Cosima was exceptional. Cosima was  _brilliant_. Cosima was warm, enthusiastic, curious, passionate. But Delphine was –

She wasn't  _supposed_  to feel this way.

She laughed again bitterly, exhaling roughly through her nose and watching as the smoke billowed out in staccato bursts before disappearing into the atmosphere. Even if Aldous hadn't predicted it, he would be more than pleased.

 _Invested_.

Wasn't that what he'd wanted all along?

And would it have been different, if Delphine hadn't  _liked_  her? Technically, she had seen all of Cosima long ago. Had seen all of Alison, of Katja, of Jennifer. Had seen all of the nucleotides that coded for all of the parts of each woman, but none of that could have prepared her for  _this_. Would Delphine not feel quite so enamored - so invested - had it been some other clone? Some other variation of the same genome? Was it only Cosima who somehow earned the privilege to be called  _human_  in her mind, to be called  _Cosima_ , while the others were reduced to short strings of numbers?

It would be so easy, to collect data on a  _subject_. So, so easy, to observe and to manipulate. Much more difficult to rifle through the home of a flesh-and-blood  _human_ , to spy, to tumble into a warm bed and press against hot skin while lithe hands drifted down, down until…

The  _click_  of the front door snapped her nerves alight.

 _She won't know_ , Delphine hummed to herself. Her eyes flickered to the bookcase, to the space where Cosima's secret research sat tucked snugly behind peculiar sculptures and heavy volumes. Her pulse quickened.  _She can't know_. The words  _subject_  and  _human_  –  _Cosima_  and  _324B21_  – muddled maddeningly in her psyche.

"Hey."

Delphine barely registered the word, far too caught up in Cosima's stupidly warm grin.

"Hey," she returned, and felt the smile tugging at her cheeks before she realized what she was doing.

Cosima tossed the ice cream on the table, pausing when she'd made her way halfway between the table and Delphine.

Delphine smiled sheepishly. She melted into herself, suddenly embarrassed by Cosima's gaze that roamed so freely over her body.

 _Exposed_.

She bit her lip and pulled the fabric loosely over herself to cover the expanse of exposed skin.

Cosima smirked.

"Take it off."

Delphine stubbed out her cigarette, angling towards the window in a vain attempt to hide the violent blush that spread from her cheeks down to her chest.

"I thought we were going to have ice cream?" she coyly quipped, cocking her head and tilting her gaze toward Cosima.

_She can't know. She can't._

"Hmmmm," Cosima purred, taking those last few steps to the window and resting her hands on either side of Delphine's hips. She leaned in until she could feel the heat of Delphine's body, but did not touch her. "I mean, if that's what you want. Sure. We could do that."

_She won't know. She won't._

Delphine could feel Cosima's breath against the corner of her mouth.

 _(but she_ will _know, eventually. she will)_

"If that's what you want," Cosima breathed, letting her fingers trail down the fabric of her robe, careful not to graze Delphine's skin. Her voice dropped to a low husk. "Because I'm kind of thinking the ice cream can wait until later. If that's cool with you."

_Perhaps I can, just for now…_

Delphine's fingertips were soft against Cosima's cheek, but her kiss was eager. Suddenly Cosima found herself pressed flush against Delphine's body, long fingers splayed across her back. Cosima smiled, but as Delphine's back began to arch and her leg began to wind its way around Cosima's hip, Cosima playfully broke away to snatch the ice cream off of the table.

"Co-si-ma," Delphine husked, breathless.

"Relax. I'm just putting it in the freezer!" she teased, skipping over to the tiny refrigerator. "You may be distracting, but you are  _not_  distracting enough to make me ruin perfectly good ice cream."

_Yes, she will know. She will. But that does not mean that I cannot…_

Delphine slid off the windowsill with her eyes trained on Cosima's back, teeth sunk into her own lip. Was there really any harm in enjoying herself a bit, at least for the moment? She'd chosen her path, and it had brought her to this point. Right now, she was in Cosima's good graces. Right now, she was in her apartment. In her bedroom. In her robe. Perhaps tomorrow things would be horribly different – everything dampened with the dank stain of betrayal – but at least for now she could…

Delphine smiled.

"Hm. Then maybe I am doing something wrong?" she simpered, wrapping her arms around Cosima from behind. She nipped at the lobe of her ear, sighing as icy fingers reached back to graze her cheek.

"Mmmm, no complaints here," Cosima moaned as she tilted her head back and guided Delphine's lips to her own. Cosima leaned back, sinking into her, and Delphine had to grasp tightly to the tiny woman's waist in order to support the weight of her.

 _Strange_ , Delphine thought, to hold another in this way. To hold and not to be held. Strange, to bend  _down_  to capture soft, eager lips. To see the face of another tilted  _up_  to meet her gaze. And stranger still, to feel the weight of such a tiny frame resting against her, all lithe muscle and soft hips and so beautifully different from anything to which she'd ever been accustomed. From anything she'd ever thought to  _want_. It made her feel strong.

She had never expected to feel strong.

Lips parted and impatient fingers tugged at fabric. Delphine didn't remember forming the idea in her head, but suddenly she found that she had spun Cosima around to face her, had fisted her hands into the lapels of her coat, had thrust her roughly against the wall. Cosima let out a low groan, which only encouraged Delphine to press her more tightly to the wall, rolling her hips against her.

Delphine's fingers trailed their way from the cut of Cosima's jaw to trace the veins of her neck. She pulled back from the kiss, gasping, and tugged Cosima's coat off her shoulders. She was met with only bare skin and lace, and she couldn't stifle a giggle.

"I'm sorry," Delphine managed, blushing. "I – euh, I forgot that you –"

Cosima only grinned, silencing her with a kiss, and pushed the robe off of Delphine's shoulders.

"There," she laughed, eyes dark, "Now we're even." She paused before reaching for Delphine's hand. "C'mon."

Delphine giggled again as Cosima led her to the bed, blushing and smiling foolishly into messy kisses. The gorgeous, clumsy, childlike thrill of it was very nearly enough to eclipse the unrelenting pangs of reality - of  _clone_  and  _liar_  and  _spy_  - that struck and sunk Delphine's stomach again and again.

 _Stupid_. So, so stupid. So miraculously, wonderfully  _stupid_  to allow herself this. To allow herself this moment and to think that it would be just that: a moment. To foolishly believe that she might  _sate_  her desire instead of  _fuel_  it by choosing to tumble into Cosima's bed.

_She will find out (and you don't deserve this)._

But there was no choice here. Not ever.

Because Cosima had not  _made_  it mean something.

It simply had.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys... I have finally actually finished a fic. Exactly one year ago today I posted the first chapter of Data Collection on fanfiction.net, and by some crazy twist of fate I've just so happened to have finished the last chapter exactly one year later. So that's cool.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read and/or given feedback! You're all wonderful. Hope you enjoy this last little installment.

* * *

 

She’d never quite understood it.  
  
Dr. Aldous Leekie, who had been so enamored with her mind. With her research. With her ambition.

Dr. Aldous Leekie, who had chosen _her_. Who had plucked _her_ from the multitudes of hopeful, gaunt-eyed med students to elevate to a world of cutting edge research and multimillion dollar facilities and unparalleled _opportunity_. A world of luxurious dinners, of butlered hotel rooms and expensive galas.

(a world of deceit, of secrecy, of _you’re playing for your life here_ )

She’d never quite understood why she’d allowed it to happen.

She wondered, later, if perhaps he had been more enamored with her body all along. Told herself that it was never just _that_. Would not allow herself to believe that it had ever been _just that_. Told herself that the physical aspect had come later. That it was her brain, and not her body, that had drawn Aldous Leekie to her side to lead her into a world she’d never known existed. 

She told herself.

It had not been unwelcome, at the time. In a way it had been wonderful. This man – with such fame and prestige attached to him – wanted her. Wanted her for her mind, for her body (and sometimes, she felt) for her soul.

So she had gone to his bed, quite willingly. More than willingly.

Because Aldous Leekie – with his domineering charm and gentle manipulation – was not the type of man who was often refused.

And so she navigated the strange territory that lie somewhere between _boss_ and _mentor_ and _lover_. Discovered that, for the moment, this peculiar union diminished the thick emptiness that had crept its way so stealthily into her chest. That, for the moment, she felt less alone.

She’d never fully understood it until now.

Not until Cosima sat poised above her on the bed in that musty apartment, all sunshine eyes and firecracker smile. Not until she felt careful fingers trailing through her hair and along her spine and suddenly she remembered what it was to feel warm. To feel safe. To feel whole.

It was, she realized with a heavy ecstasy, what she’d been searching for all along.  
  
 _(you don’t deserve this)_

She wanted to wrap herself around Cosima and pull her in close. Wanted to crush away the space between them, wanted to bury her nose in the soft crook of Cosima’s neck. Wanted to breathe her in, thick and sweet and earthy, and lose herself in the rise and fall of her chest. Her ribs physically ached for that closeness– a strange sensation to which she was wholly unaccustomed – yet she remained still.

_You don’t deserve this._

But Cosima tilted her head, smiled. Let her fingers trail lazily down Delphine’s neck and along her collarbone. Regarded her with a gentle fascination.

(Aldous had looked at her as if she were a problem to which he already knew the answer. Territory to be conquered, not explored. For all of his outward charm, an underlying aggression – a primal possessiveness – had made itself known to Delphine behind closed doors)

Cosima did not seek to own.

* * *

 

“Non, but I could not accept…”  
  
“Please, Delphine. It’s my pleasure. I couldn’t have asked for lovelier company this week. You know how dry these conferences always are,” he chuckled. “You’ve done me a favor by accompanying me. I simply wanted to give you something in return.”  
  
She eyed the necklace, glinting gold in its case.

“Non, Dr. Leekie. You have already done so much for me. I – I would not feel comfortable –”

“Nonsense, Delphine,” he waved her off, plucking the necklace from its case. “Here, let me.”

She blushed furiously. Something was shifting in the dynamic between them (had been shifting). She’d felt it coming for weeks – perhaps longer – yet she’d chosen to ignore the obvious clues for the sake of professionalism. After all: he was her mentor, and soon to be her boss. 

She felt him move behind her, laying cold metal over her chest. Her skin tingled where his fingers brushed at the back of her neck, fastening the clasp. He lingered there.

“You have an incredibly promising future, Delphine.”  
  
Still, he did not move.

“Thank you,” was all she could think to say. She stood there, dumbly, unsure of how to proceed. Unsure of how she wanted to proceed. He must have been able to feel her tremble.

The fingers of his right hand traveled down her neck and along her shoulders before winding themselves around her arm. She realized suddenly that she was not breathing – when had she stopped? – and pulled air shakily into her lungs.

She returned his kiss before she quite understood how it had begun. Returned it because it felt like _approval_ and like _promise_ and like _faith_. Returned it – quite simply – because it felt _good_. It felt good to be _wanted_ , and to want.

She burned with him, and for a while it thawed the icy solitude that had frosted through the cavern of her chest.

So she ignored the uneasy tremble in her bones and the hollowness that their subsequent rendezvous would slowly foster. Convinced herself – even as she could feel the frost creeping back into chest – that this was better than being alone. That, despite his ever more frequent absences, she was less alone. Convinced herself that she was happy with just her work and with the sporadic attentions of this powerful man. And she was, really. For the most part. She was grateful, and comfortable, and most certainly content.

It had been enough.

It had been.

* * *

 

 _Not enough._

They tumbled, giggling, back into Cosima’s bed together. But with Cosima’s weight suddenly pressed into her and her lips kissing a path down her neck Delphine’s giddiness quickly dissipated. The concession she had made only moments ago – _just for now_ – suddenly seemed a dangerous notion.

 _Perhaps_ , Delphine thought as Cosima’s warm hands slid around her back, _I have made a terrible mistake_.

Because there could be no _for now_. Because Cosima’s warmth had now made the coldness and sterility of the previous months quite painfully apparent. Nothing had felt like this. She had nearly forgotten that anything _could_ feel like this.  
  
It _couldn’t_ be only for now. It was not enough.

Delphine had never felt so euphoric or so utterly terrified. Terrified at the thought of losing a feeling she hadn’t even known she’d had the capacity to feel.  
  
 _Dangerous_ , to feel this happy. So wonderfully, _awfully_ dangerous.

She felt the threat of tears again, the threat of bitter laughter at the ridiculous impossibility of this situation. She swallowed it all down, instead nuzzling into Cosima’s neck and pulling her more tightly into her.  Out of all of the people in the world, out of all of the myriad of possible situations and circumstances, the one who could make her feel this way had to be…

_It was supposed to be simple._

_For now_ , she tried again, but couldn’t quell the rapidly intensifying feeling that she wanted this for much longer than _for now_. That she could want this for the rest of her life, if Cosima would allow her to. If circumstances would allow her to.

And it was _ridiculous,_ really. It was far, far too soon for such thoughts. It was not the time.

(not now, with Cosima playfully nipping at her collarbone as she rolled over her on the bed. not while Delphine could feel her smile stretching across her skin and her laughter vibrating into her neck)  
  
But perhaps there would never be another time.  
  
 _(Dangerous. So wonderfully, awfully dangerous.)_

Delphine stilled. The unrelenting thought that she did not deserve this levity struck heavy in her chest, stealing the mirth from her lips as she abruptly sobered.

Cosima felt the stiffness creep into Delphine’s body and pulled back, propping herself up above her.

“Hey, Delphine,” she began, “Are you—”

But she stopped when Delphine’s gaze met her own.

That playful spark was gone from Delphine’s eyes, replaced instead with a strange and somber reverence. Slowly, apprehensively, she lifted a hand to Cosima’s cheek. Cosima’s breath caught in her throat as the pads of Delphine’s fingers grazed delicately over her skin. She resisted the impulse to close her eyes and lean into the touch, instead keeping her gaze locked with Delphine’s.

She remained motionless as Delphine’s hand came to the base of her neck and drifted lightly down her breastbone. She failed to suppress a shiver. 

Delphine’s gaze followed her own hand as she began to trace small circles between Cosima’s breasts. She stopped and let out a heavy sigh before lifting her gaze back to meet Cosima’s.  
  
They remained suspended that way – both searching for answers to questions they felt they could not ask – until those answers seemed to lose their importance. Until there was only the sound of breath, the steady rise and fall of chests, the golden green-brown of irises stretched and shrunk around dilating pupils. Until foreheads simply rested against one another, until fingers threaded through hair to cradle the backs of heads. Until Delphine leaned forward to softly brush her lips against Cosima’s. 

Until _soft_ was no longer a possibility.

Delphine surged forward, throwing herself into Cosima. Cosima reeled, rolling onto her back as Delphine topped her. 

But this was different than before.

 _Entirely_ different.

Gone was the frantic, stilted Delphine of earlier. In her place was a woman deliberate, enthralled, and powerful. It was unsettling and thrilling and captivating in the strangest and most wonderful of ways. Delphine, on top of her. Delphine, pressing into her. Squeezing into her. Moving against her without fear, and with such strength that she knew she would trace bruises in the morning. 

_Too much._

They broke away, panting, Delphine suspended above Cosima on the bed. Again Delphine’s hands and eyes began to wander over Cosima’s skin.  
  
Cosima gazed up at blown pupils, at lips quirked in childlike fascination even as they swelled red with hunger. Even with this primal thing boiling within her, on the surface Delphine was all gentle curiosity and careful fascination.

It appeared that whatever apprehension had colored their first encounter in this bed had been lifted. It had scarcely been an hour, and already this Delphine was all exploration and wonder where her predecessor had been so restrained by fear and hesitation. Cosima wondered what had changed in these last sixty minutes – what new information or internal epiphany had refocused her energy in such a dramatic way?  
  
(one hopeful, terrifying possibility repeatedly insisted on bringing itself to the forefront of her conscience. it was ridiculous, and fanciful, and somehow altogether too wonderfully possible, but there it was. because she _felt_ it. could feel that Delphine felt it. she _felt_ it, even as she tried so desperately not to. because it couldn’t be that. it couldn’t be, and she couldn’t let herself—)

But with Delphine’s fingers skimming down her sides and dancing just, _just_ above the band of her underwear, Cosima found that she couldn’t muster the mental discipline to toy with these thoughts for long. Not with Delphine’s thigh putting pressure just _there_ and with Delphine’s hands ghosting back up to the clasp of her – 

Cosima’s bra had scarcely fallen from her chest when she felt the warmth of a cautious tongue flit against her nipple. She gasped, arching into the open mouth, and Delphine’s kiss grew more confident.

Cosima’s hands found Delphine’s where they lay rested lightly on her thighs and guided them up to her chest. Gentle palms kneaded soft flesh, thumbs brushed over nipples, and lips traveled slowly up to suck at a pulse point.

This was more than Cosima had dared hope for.

Encouraged, she reached around to unclasp Delphine’s bra. This time there was no stiffness or hesitation from the other woman; instead, Delphine’s hands met hers to assist in tugging off the garment. Cosima smiled and tossed the bra to the floor, pulling Delphine against her so that their breasts pressed together. Their lips met and Cosima could only feel _heat_ everywhere between and around them.

She groaned when Delphine pulled away, missing the warmth and the pressure. She gave a start when she felt slender fingers loop in either side of her underwear and slowly begin to tug down.  
  
Her skin caught fire and her breath caught in her throat as Delphine tossed her underwear aside and settled herself between her legs. She simply stared, dark-eyed and swollen-lipped. She stared, and Cosima let her. She felt so impossibly _warm_ , even with Delphine no longer flush against her. And still Delphine stared, thumbs tracing small circles where they sat atop Cosima’s thighs.

She pondered how much of Delphine’s fascination was due to _Cosima_ and how much was due to the _experiment_. Delphine was a scientist, after all (wasn’t she?). She had to know that she was fucking a clone. How many others had she seen? Had she looked at any others in this way? _Been_ with any others in this way? (the notion seemed ridiculous, but yet… how much did she really know about this woman?) Delphine was enthralled with her, yes. Aroused by her. Plainly _interested_. But for what reason? If she was just a novelty, a distraction, an experiment in more ways than one, well then…

Cosima wondered what she knew. Wondered if the root of this curious exploration was indeed _Cosima_ , or perhaps _woman_ , or maybe _clone_. The last thought hurt – that Delphine’s fascination with her might only be attributed to her status as _experiment_ , as _biological wonder_.

The possibility of the first – that perhaps it was only _Cosima_ that had sparked this in Delphine, regardless of her gender or of her biological origins – warmed her chest and radiated outward until she was sure she must be visibly _glowing_.

And with Delphine moving over her as she was it was easy to forget all of the rest. It was easy to melt into this. So, so easy to melt into this. So easy to relax into curious hands that drifted warm along her sides, across her abdomen, over her breasts. Delphine moved slowly, exploring with wide eyes, probing fingers, and a child-like wonder. _Serene_ , Cosima thought, as Delphine sat back and began to trace patterns dangerously close to the apex of her thighs.  
  
“Hey, c’mere” she murmured, pulling Delphine back up to her. Delphine smiled sheepishly and Cosima kissed her, long and soft, burying her hands in tousled curls and holding her close. Gradually her hands drift along Delphine’s freckled torso to rest on her hips.

She lifted her gaze to Delphine’s and received that same sheepish smile, but this time it was Delphine who leaned forward for a kiss. She hesitated for a moment, but then let her fingers wander down to Delphine’s waist. She _felt_ rather than saw the heat of Delphine’s blush washing over her as she moved to pull her underwear down her legs.

She wanted to feel her (could already feel the heat of her), and brushed against her as she moved back up her now fully naked body. Delphine shivered and clutched onto her, nails pricking into the flesh of her back. They kissed again, Delphine’s tongue parting her lips as Cosima slowly nudged her thigh between her legs and began to rock softly against her.

She could feel her arousal hot and slick against her thigh. Could feel the vibrations of the desperate little noises that she tried to suppress. Could feel her hips rising and grinding against her with increasing force, her breath desperate and heavy, her skin slick and warm. Cosima slipped a hand between them and stroked her, working her until she could no longer swallow the little moans and whimpers, until her hips begin to jerk out of rhythm, until she collapsed beneath her and buried her head in the crook of Cosima’s neck. 

 It was enough, being with Delphine like this. It was enough.

A soft hand on her cheek tilted her head so that she lay face to face with Delphine, who smiled and kissed her deeply.  
  
It was enough.

But then her hand trailed across Cosima’s belly. It lingered there, tracing patterns across her skin. They kissed, and slowly Delphine’s hand drifted down to settle between Cosima’s legs.

Cosima almost stopped her. Almost spun fingers around her wrist and gently guided her hand back to her heart, to her cheek, to her hair. Anywhere.

“Delphine, you don’t have to.”

She almost said it. Almost. But Delphine gazed at her with such a peculiar mixture of intention and curiosity that she couldn’t quite form the words. She found herself stilled by her quietly shaky determination, by her twitching fingers hovering _just_ …

Delphine had clearly never done this before, and her movements seemed inspired by exploration and curiosity more so than anything else. Still, there was something so wildly _sexy_ about that that Cosima found herself refraining from whispering any sort of direction or encouragement, instead choosing to let Delphine explore her body at her own pace.

She seemed astonished, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was doing.

_Why, Delphine? Why can’t you believe it? Is it because someone made you do this? Or because it was the one thing you weren’t supposed to do?_

Cosima closed her eyes and focused on every graze, grasp, _touch_. She thought of the tiny skin cells sloughing off as Delphine’s hand slid up her back and to her neck. Thought of the cells mixing and floating down, landing lightly on the bed. Dancing their way down into the sheets and collecting like autumn leaves: Delphine’s entirely unique DNA mingling with her own, which could just as easily have been that of so many others.

Cosima shifted against Delphine to get a better angle and began to rock harder against her hand. She felt Delphine’s breath against the shell of her ear as she leaned in.  
  
“Tell me…” Delphine breathed. 

“Here,” Cosima panted, guiding her hand.

Delphine followed, attempting to mimic what Cosima had done to her before. She couldn’t recall another time when she had been so monumentally nervous to touch someone; couldn’t recall a time when she’d been so ridiculously unsure of her own movements. She could do what she liked to do to herself, but… really, it was just so exceptionally _strange_ to feel another woman in this way. To be _inside_ another woman in this way. To have a woman panting and trembling beneath you, to have her clutching at your back and burying her face into your neck.

So wonderfully strange.

Cosima shuddered, and Delphine watched her as she came. She wondered if she could make her come undone like this; if she could make her come fully apart. If she could somehow separate and rearrange Cosima’s DNA to create an entirely new human. If maybe things would be better that way. If Cosima were not a clone, but a genetically unique individual. If she were not a clone. Not an experiment. Not _her_ experiment. 

 _Merde_.

Perhaps, if circumstances had been different…

Cosima nuzzled into her side and pressed a kiss to her collarbone, releasing a contented sigh. Delphine kissed her forehead, absently running her fingers down the back of Cosima’s neck.

Delphine smiled.

On second thought, perhaps she wouldn’t _want_ circumstances to be any different. Not if this particular set of circumstances allowed her moments like these. 

“Mmmmm,” Cosima moaned, kissing up her neck. “Still hungry?”  
  
Delphine cocked an eyebrow. Cosima smiled mischievously. 

“We still have those Eskimo Pies.” 

“Ah, bien sûr,” Delphine laughed. “I am still hungry, but also I think I do not want you to move.”

“Hm, no?” Cosima asked, pressing more closely against her.

“ _Non_ ,” Delphine responded, arching her hips a bit.

“Well, we have to eat some real food _eventually_ , and if I don’t get out of bed, like, right now, then it’s gonna be a _very_ long time until that happens,” Cosima teased, letting her hand trace the curve of Delphine’s breasts.

“Fine,” Delphine pouted, “Eskimos, then. Although I think we may need to reassess your definition of ‘real food.’” 

Cosima smirked before leaning in for a kiss. “Fine,” she conceded. “I can order us some Thai or something?”

“Perhaps another night. I actually have.. erm, I have an early class tomorrow. I should probably—”  
  
“Right, of course,” Cosima responded hastily, deflating a bit at the obvious lie. Still, Delphine could have some other commitment. Or perhaps there were rules to this game. Perhaps Delphine was not meant to be in her bed at all.

“Eskimos for now?” she asked, rolling away from Delphine’s embrace and sliding out of the bed.  
  
“ _Oui_ ,” Delphine answered with a smile. “Eskimos for now.”

Cosima grinned and made her way over to the freezer. She hadn’t bothered with a robe, and she could feel Delphine’s gaze traveling across her fully naked form as she walked. She couldn’t help but smile even wider at that, and wider still when she turned back around to see Delphine with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, staring unabashedly.

Delphine’s gaze followed her as the climbed slowly back into the bed, and the hunger in her eyes remained even after Cosima had distributed the Eskimo Pies.

“Okay, so tell me that this isn’t the best fucking desert you’ve ever had,” Cosima mumbled from where she sat cross-legged and naked on the bed, mouth half-full with ice cream.  
  
Delphine laughed, swallowing a bite. “I think that maybe you Americans have rather low standards for desserts in this country.”

“Well, if you really don’t like it then you can give me the rest and I’ll finish it,” she teased, moving to snatch the ice cream from Delphine.  
  
“ _Non_ , _non_!” Delphine laughed, holding the ice cream out of Cosima’s reach. “It is delicious. I just think that,” she paused, smirking. “In France we hold ourselves to a higher culinary standard." 

“What, are you going to try and tell me that those one-euro crepes they sell on the side of the streets in Paris are better than this? No way.”

“Non, non. Not the _crêpes_ ,” Delphine answered, pausing to take the last bite of her Eskimo Pie. “Truffles.”

“Hm, truffles? You want to challenge my Eskimo Pies with truffles?” Cosima countered.  
  
“ _Oui_ ,” Delphine answered, nudging her playfully in the ribs. “I may actually know a shop nearby that makes decent ones, if you’d like to try.”

“Obviously not as good as the ones in France, of course,” Cosima mocked, licking the remnants of chocolate and ice cream from her fingers. “Higher culinary standard and all that.”

“C’est vrai,” Delphine laughed.  
  
“Hmmm, I think we might have to conduct an experiment, then. Eskimo Pies vs. Truffles. Next time?”

“ _Oui_ , I would like that,” Delphine agreed, beaming.

“It’s a date, then.”

Delphine’s chest glowed. Not a white-hot sharp thing as it had been earlier, but a warm orange glow that spread to every part of her and felt something like _contentment_.

 _Dangerous_ , she thought.

She wanted nothing more than to cuddle into Cosima’s side and stay in this bed until morning. Wanted to wake up pressed against her, skin to skin and tangled up in each other’s arms. She wanted.

“I should go,” she murmured.  
  
“Right, right. Of course,” Cosima stammered. “Here, let me… ummm…”  
  
Cosima shrugged on her robe and assisted Delphine in gathering her clothes, which proved to be more difficult than anticipated. After a great deal of giggling (“God, I’m sorry my place is such a mess. Is this yours? Oh wait… nope, mine. Shit.”) and a semi-awkward goodbye kiss, Delphine found herself back at Cosima’s front doorstop.

She felt dizzy. Giddy and terrified and elated and completely, irrevocably, hopelessly sunk.

Cosima had asked nothing from her – nothing of her – yet already she owned more of her than Aldous Leekie ever had.

_Where are you with Cosima?  
Closer._

Safely outside of Cosima’s building, Delphine pulled her pack of cigarettes from her purse and lit one with trembling hands. The air was chilly, but some of the snow on the ground seemed to be turning to slush. She gazed up at the barren branches of the surrounding trees as she sighed out a long stream of smoke.

_Breathe in, breath out. Focus._

Her eyes settled on a small blossom that had sprouted out of one of the naked branches in seemingly brash defiance of the harsh winter weather. She wondered absently if it would last through to the Spring.

_Breathe in, breath out._

She inhaled another long drag from her cigarette, fingers still trembling. She knew that she shouldn’t linger here, yet she had no desire to be anywhere else.

_Where are you with Cosima?_

She tossed her spent cigarette onto the pavement, where it landed atop the discarded _1984_ handbill, obscuring the words. She dug the heel of her boot into that handbill, twisting the soggy paper until the cigarette was crushed into it and the words were unreadable.

 _Closer_.

She shivered, eyes drifting to the trees, and continued onward.


End file.
